


Veronica Sawyer: Certified Sexy Badass

by thewishingdragon



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Badass Veronica, Cuban/Italian Veronica, Dominican Betty, F/F, French Heather Chandler, Irish/Japanese Heather McNamara, Korean Heather Duke, Puerto Rican Courtney, literally none of the main characters in this story are straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewishingdragon/pseuds/thewishingdragon
Summary: Based on a story idea I proposed in the discord chat."A concept: Heathers, but JD isn't a character, and instead Ronnie is a badass punk girl in a leather jacket who's protective AF of Betty and Martha, and after the Heathers meet her they're all just fucking gone for this sexy badass they've never met, and suddenly Ronnie has three pretty girls competing for her attention."





	1. Chandler: Shitty First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ, Heather. Could you not just flirt with her like a normal person?

The Heathers weren’t expecting the amount of excitement they found when they arrived at school.

News traveled fast in their small town, however, and they learned quickly of the new student.

Veronica Sawyer.

From what they had gathered, the girl’s parents sent her to live with her grandmother in Italy, and she had returned home a few weeks ago to graduate. According to Dennis, who had been asking around for them, she was fluent in English and Spanish alongside Italian, and she appeared to be especially attached to Betty Finn and Martha Dunnstock.

After hearing that last bit of information, they promptly decided the new girl wasn’t worth their time and went on with their lives.

* * *

 

They weren’t able to escape news of Veronica Sawyer’s assimilation into the school.

Apparently, she was currently the president of the Theater Club, and she and Peter were co-presidents of the Dance Club. She also appeared to be Ms. Fleming’s favorite student. A rather astounding accomplishment, seeing as how Fleming seemed to detest high school students with a burning passion, as though having a degree somehow made her _too good_ to deal with teenagers.

Most infuriating of all, however, was how much people seemed to like her. Whenever they heard about Veronica Sawyer, it was always something about how she helped some stupid freshman with their books, or how she told off Kurt and Ram in rapid-fire Italian until they ran off with their tails between their legs for messing with another student.

She was _popular_. For a totally different reason than why the Heathers were popular.

Suffice it to say, they hated this new girl.

Which is probably why things happened the way they did.

* * *

 

“Aww, is little Martha Dumptruck gonna cry?” Chandler sneered, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, belied by the malice in her eyes.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to her like that?!”

The Heathers three turned to find the source of the voice and were stunned at what they saw.

Standing tall - and _god,_ was she _tall_ \- was a girl with wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, wearing black skinny jeans, a dark purple crop top, and white converse. There was a black leather jacket draped over her shoulders, and all Chandler could think was _Holy shit, the rocker aesthetic is_ really _doing it for me._ Her eyeliner looked sharp enough to kill a man, the smokey eyeshadow adding to her dangerous appearance, and her plum lipstick made her lips look _way_ too kissable.

Chandler only realized she’d been staring when the girl snapped her fingers in Chandler’s face.

“Hello? I asked you a question.” The girl appeared to be getting impatient, if her crossed arms were any indication.

Chandler took a second to compose herself, and then smiled, and in the most condescending way possible, said, “You must be new. I’m Heather Chandler, and I _run_ this fucking school. It would serve you well to _learn your place,_ before I have to _teach it to you._ ”

The girl didn’t seem particularly impressed. “Veronica Sawyer, and I _don’t_ tolerate bullies, no matter how much _better_ they delude themselves into thinking they are.”

This bitch had a lot of nerve, Chandler decided.

That just wouldn’t do.

“You listen here, _Sawyer,_ if you don’t watch yourself, I can make your time here a living hell.”

Veronica growled, and _god,_ that was hot, before leaning in close. “ _You_ listen here, _puttana,_ I don’t know who you think you’re messing with, but you don’t just get to insult my friend and get away with it, no matter how many football players you have wrapped around your little finger.” At that, she got closer, a hand coming up to grip her blazer and _pull_ her until she was centimeters away from Veronica Sawyer’s face. “I’m not afraid of you _or_ those idiots you have doing your dirty work, so it would serve _you_ well to _leave me the hell alone_ before I _make you._ ”

_Don’t kiss her. Don’t kiss her. Don’t kiss her._

Chandler huffed, shoving Veronica away with as much force as she could muster.

“Just remember,” Chandler said, voice low and venomous, “That I _warned you._ ”

As she walked away, Heather Chandler could only think _I am so gay for this girl what the fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chandler: "I think that went well."  
> The Narrator: "It hadn't gone well at all. In fact, it was about to get a whole lot worse."


	2. Mac: Peaceful Interactions

Mac sighed in relief as she made her way to the senior parking lot after cheer practice. Honestly, she loved cheerleading, but the beginning of the year was always the toughest part.

She looked around the parking lot as she exited the building, looking forward to going home, when she came to a sudden realization.

She couldn’t see Heather’s Porsche anywhere in the parking lot.

“Shit!” she muttered, kicking at a rock and fishing her phone out of her pocket to call someone to pick her up, scrolling through her contacts and weighing the pros and cons of each one.

Kurt was a definite no. So was Ram. They both would expect something from her as “payment.”

Duke wouldn’t come get her even if she was Mac’s only choice.

Chandler was probably home already, and she wouldn’t appreciate being called out of her house to pick her up.

Her parents probably wouldn’t even pick up the phone.

She sighed, putting her phone away and wandering back into the building. The buses were probably still running, and that’s better than no ride home at all.

On her way to the front entrance, she ran into someone while turning a corner. She would have fallen if someone hadn’t grabbed her arms at the last second.

“Are you alright?”

Wait.

She knew that voice.

Looking up, Mac locked eyes with none other than Veronica Sawyer.

_ Shit. She’s even prettier up close. _

Mac quickly got back to her feet, still holding on to Veronica’s shoulder for support. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

Veronica nodded, peering behind Mac curiously. “Where are you coming from? I didn’t know there were clubs in this part of the school.”

“There aren’t,” Mac said, “Heather just forgot I had cheer practice today, so she wasn’t in the parking lot when I went to ride home with her.”

Veronica frowned. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing Mac’s hand and leading her back towards the senior lot.

“Where are we going?”

“You need a ride home,” Veronica said, “I am going to give you a ride home.”

Mac’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to do that!”

Veronica hummed, but didn’t say anything else as she tugged Mac out into the senior lot and led her to a deep purple motorcycle.

_ Of  _ course _ she rides a motorcycle. She just  _ had _ to be even sexier. _

Veronica stopped a few feet from the bike, letting go of Mac’s hand and rummaging through the saddlebags, tossing a helmet in Mac’s direction and slipping a different one on over her head.

At Mac’s scared look, Veronica flipped the helmet’s visor up to look Mac in the eyes.

“Just don’t lean and we’ll be fine,” she promised, “I’ll go slow for a little while so you can get used to the bike, okay?”

Mac nodded, slowly putting the helmet on and getting on the motorcycle behind Veronica.

“Hold on to me,” Veronica said, “If you need me to slow down, you can squeeze me tighter and I’ll go slow until you say I can speed up.”

Mac tentatively wound her arms around Veronica’s midsection.

Veronica chuckled, taking Mac’s wrists in hand and drawing them tighter around her waist. “Like that,” she said. “I don’t want you falling off.”

Mac was pressed flush against Veronica’s back like this, and upon realizing this, Mac felt her face warm.

“I won’t be able to hear you when we go, so just point to where you need me to turn,” Veronica instructed, fishing a keychain out of her jacket pocket. “Ready?”

Mac was decidedly  _ not _ ready, but she nodded anyway. Veronica started the bike, and just like that, they were off.

Mac kept her eyes shut tight for a few seconds until she remembered that Veronica was counting on her to navigate. She hesitantly opened her eyes, and was surprised by how careful Veronica was being. She turned onto the main road quickly, but not so sharply that Mac felt scared of the bike tipping. She found herself enjoying the ride much more than she would have expected. As loud as it was, it was actually pretty easy to block out the rumble of the engine in favor of watching the scenery.

Mac managed to point Veronica in the right direction, and as the motorcycle came to a stop in Mac’s driveway, she found herself hoping that Chandler would forget her again next time.

She got off the bike and handed Veronica’s helmet back, but before she could turn around, she felt a hand close around her wrist.

“Here,” Veronica said, slipping a piece of paper in her hand. “If you need a ride again, call me.”

Mac nodded, a smile spreading across her face, and before she could process what was happening, she already had her lips pressed against Veronica’s cheek.

She pulled back as soon as she realized what she was doing, her face bright red. “I’m so sorry! I should have asked!”

Veronica blinked slowly. “I realize that American customs are different from how things are in Italy, but I don’t want to misunderstand.” Veronica’s eyes locked on Mac, and she was struck by just how beautiful they were. Dark brown near the middle, blending into gold around the edges of the iris. “Is this a gesture of friendship?”

Mac looked away, unable to meet Veronica’s stern gaze. “I mean… if you want it to be, then sure.”

It was silent for a moment, and Mac opened her mouth to say something, before she was cut off by the feeling of Veronica’s soft lips against her cheek.

“I accept,” she said, smiling down at Mac and starting the motorcycle back up, waving as she drove off.

Mac waved back, a hand pressed against the cheek that Veronica had just kissed.

_ Fuck. Why does she have to be so smooth? I’m too gay for this. _


	3. Duke: Tentative Comraderie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for mentions of eating disorders. I kept it as vague as I could, but I'm still including a warning.

Veronica walked into the bathroom and sat up on the counter, sighing in relief as she leaned back against the mirror, savoring the moment of quiet. She fished her phone out of the inside pocket of her jacket and started replying to messages from her friends and cousins in Italy, assuring them that she was fine and, no, she hadn’t had any panic attacks since moving, and that Martha and Betty were still as nice as they had been before she moved.

Suddenly, a sound came from the stall farthest from the door. Was that…?

Oh god, it was.

She quietly slid off the counter and walked to the stall door, knocking lightly. “Are you okay in there? I can find the nurse if you need something to make you feel better.”

There was a gasp, before Veronica heard the toilet flush, and the stall door opened to reveal a very familiar angry-looking person.

Veronica blinked. “You are Heather Duke, right?”

The girl blinked in confusion. “I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“Martha told me,” Veronica explained, “She has been very good at helping me adjust to things here.”

Heather frowned, walking past Veronica to the sinks.

“Are you not friends with her anymore?” Veronica asked. “I did not get that impression from her, but perhaps I misunderstood.”

Heather turned and scowled at her. “We haven’t talked since third grade, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop bringing her up.”

Veronica’s eyes widened. “I meant no offense.” She took a tentative step forward. “I thought maybe you would be okay with me if you knew that I am friends with her.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “God, why do you talk like that? This is  _ high school, _ There’s no need to sound so proper.”

“I wasn’t aware there was anything wrong with the way I talk. English is not my first language, so I appreciate any help you have to offer.”

Heather eyed Veronica curiously. “What’s your first language?”

Veronica shrugged. “I learned to speak Italian and Spanish around the same time. My mother is Italian and my father is Cuban, and they wanted for me to be touching my roots.”

Heather snorted. “You mean they wanted you to be  _ in touch _ with your roots?”

Veronica looked away, her face growing warm. “Yes, I think that is what I meant to say.”

Heather thought for a moment. “Okay,” she said, “I have some questions.”

Veronica nodded encouragingly.

“Do you think in English, or do you think in another language?”

“It’s a little complicated,” Veronica admitted, “I typically think in the language that I am talking in, unless I am signing with someone.”

“Signing?”

Veronica nodded. “That is the correct way to refer to talking to someone using sign language, isn’t it?”

Heather’s eyes widened. “You know sign language, too?”

Veronica’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It was the first language I learned.”

Heather frowned. “I thought Italian and Spanish were your first languages.”

“First  _ spoken _ languages, yes.” Veronica ran a hand through her hair nervously. “I did not… I did not speak until I was maybe seven years old. I was able to understand the words, but they wouldn’t come when I tried to say them. I wanted to, but I… I was afraid, I think.”

Heather wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

Veronica sighed. “My parents let me take sign language classes so that I could learn to communicate without having to speak, and they learned with me so that I could get better.” She smiled wistfully. “They were always so understanding. A little overprotective, but they love me, and I am glad that they worked so hard to help me.”

Heather frowned.

Veronica looked down then, taking in Heather’s sour expression. “Are you okay? I heard you in the stall. If you need medicine, I can go find the nurse.”

Heather laughed bitterly. “The nurse can’t help me. I’m not sick.”

“If you aren’t sick, then why-” Veronica’s eyes widened in realization. “You… you do it to yourself, don’t you?”

The tone wasn’t what Heather had expected. Rather than sounding accusatory or pitying, Veronica had sounded understanding.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Heather hissed.

Veronica seemed to consider Heather for a moment, before turning and walking towards the door.

“Wait here,” she said, “I have some things that might help.”

Heather stood there, wondering what Veronica meant, before she returned, carrying a small box that looked like a first aid kit.

“I had friends who made these for me for when I would do something like this,” Veronica explained, rummaging through the box and pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste. “Here, this will help get the taste out of your mouth and keep your teeth from being damaged.”

Heather cautiously took the items, and watched as Veronica went back to looking through the box and pulled out a granola bar and a water bottle.

“Do you think you would be able to eat this without feeling like throwing it up?” Veronica asked gently, holding out the granola bar. “If not, it’s okay. I will insist that you drink the water though. You can dehydrate yourself easily after…” Veronica glanced at the stall Heather had been in before she had arrived.

Heather frowned. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

Veronica nodded. “I know. But I also know that things like this are hard to beat on your own, so if you ever want help, I am happy to offer any assistance.”

Heather’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Veronica frowned. “I am not stupid, Heather Duke. What you were doing… I had... similar troubles with food before I moved back here. I am no stranger to eating disorders.” She gestured to the toothbrush and toothpaste still in Heather’s hand. “You need to make sure you minimize the damage if you can.”

Heather watched Veronica’s face for a long moment, and, finding no trace of deceit, slowly went about brushing her teeth, glad to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. Once she was done, Veronica gestured meaningfully to the water bottle, and Heather huffed in irritation, picking up the bottle and downing the contents under Veronica’s watchful gaze.

“Do you think you could eat something?” Veronica asked again.

Heather thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Probably not.”

Veronica nodded in understanding, putting the granola bar back in the box. “I will keep this in case you need it.”

Heather frowned. “What did you have?”

“Pardon?”

“You said you had an eating disorder,” Heather said, “What was it?”

Veronica chuckled, although there was no humor in it. “Anorexia Nervosa. And I  _ still _ have it.” She locked eyes with Heather then. “I may not shake it for a long time. But I have people to help when I need it, and I would be happy to help you whenever you need it.”

“Why?”

Veronica shrugged. “You are a person. You deserve to have people to help you. And… Martha has told me about how nice you were before you stopped speaking. If she believes that you are still that person, and she does, then I will treat you as I would treat her.” She turned to walk to the door, stopping just before opening it and walking out. “Do not mistake her kindness for weakness. It takes strength to be kind in a world so cruel.”

Heather blinked, and Veronica was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm open to prompts or suggestions on my tumblr at @shanes-scribbles! Send me an ask and I'll do my best to answer them!
> 
> And please comment! I really appreciate feedback, and if there's any way you think I could make this better, feel free to let me know!


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